Of the Blood
by Edmund Barimen
Summary: Story complete! I just wondered what would happen should a Prince of Amber and a mundane Shadow Earth vampire cross paths...
1. A chance encounter

**Of the Blood**

I just wondered what would happen should a Prince of Amber and a mundane Shadow Earth vampire cross paths...

Disclaimer: the Amber setting and all its characters are devised by Roger Zelazny. In no way do I wish to infringe upon the copyrights.

The vampiric part is largely based upon the setting provided by White Wolf's 'Vampire: the Masquerade,' although I will try to avoid specific game terms in the interest of the story. No copyrights are challenged here either. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

_A chance encounter_

Blood.

It was time to hunt for blood.

Nadine could feel the stirrings of the Beast inside her. It was still content with the remains of her last meal, but she would take no chances. When the Beast would get hungry, it would try to take control. Nadine didn't want it to take control. She'd seen the carnage a ravenous vampire could cause, and she was determined not to make the same mistake.

Stealthily, she slid through the alleyways of nightly Utrecht, her hometown. The solid cobblestones under her feet gleamed in the soft light of the half-moon, and smelled damp, of afternoon rain.

A sound? Footsteps, and laughter. Nadine slid into a dark alley and drew the shadows around her like a cloak. She watched as one, two, three students passed by, talking and laughing among themselves. The Beast stirred, but Nadine forced it down. She frowned. Three was a crowd. All she needed was one person. Just a sip. Nothing a healthy man couldn't regenerate in a day or two. That wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

The students disappeared into the night. Nadine emerged from her hiding place and went off again in search for prey. Where was that drunken, lonely wanderer...?

The old and cozy town of Utrecht was over a thousand years old and still going strong. Nadine hoped she could say the same of herself someday. Luckily, at some point in history the Netherlands had decided to be 'tolerant.' Even the local vampires were quite relaxed, as far as vampires went, and a young gothic ex-student thirsting for blood could mostly do as she chose. In Nadines case, this was tightly holding on to her humanity, and treasuring it as a beacon in a stormy sea. So far, it worked.

It worked almost too well. Nadine grinned involuntarily, carefully keeping her elongated teeth covered behind her soft, dark lips. She wore a piercing in her lower lip: part of the gothic attire she'd donned to shock her parents and 'friendly' older university professors in general. Right now, she worked so hard to control her Beast that she had become more humane than she had ever been in life. All because she had somehow attracted the attention of her sire, one of the 'friendly' older university professors who turned out to be not as mundane as his bordeaux jacket and fatherly smile had suggested.

Nadine knew there was some sort of irony in it all, and could even appreciate the humour - somethimes. At the moment, however, she...

There! A huge man lumbered out of one of the cafes, drew his grey-and-blue cloak tight around him and started to walk off, probably looking for his bicycle. Nadine's mouth started to water. She tasted her own blood and swallowed it. Judging by the size of the man, she could drink her fill tonight without him even noticing the difference afterwards.

Feeling the thrill of the hunt inside her, Nadine sneaked up on the man with a cat's grace. He would never even know.

This was her lucky night.

As Gérard walked out of the crowded, smoky interior of the bar, he could finally feel the alcohol beginning to kick in. He hummed merrily: his drinking skills had become legendary in three local pubs this evening. Once a man got used to the stuff sailors passed 'round on their Great Sea voyages, he could stand up to anyone in a drinking contest. Even the pan-galactic gargle blasters he'd drunk in some strange little Shadow had not beaten him.

Tonight, however, he hadn't gone out to get drunk; he'd gone out to visit some cozy drinking spots and enjoy himself. And enjoyed himself he had.

Right now, standing outside the pub in the chilly night air, Gérard wondered what to do. Perhaps he should go off to Texorami, his youngest brothers' favorite Shadow, and conclude the evening with a game of dice. He could also seek out a bar brawl for some enjoyment and exercise...

Nah. Gérard decided to call it a day. Maybe a brisk walk to clear up his head and enjoy the calm hours of night? Yes, that would be nice.

Gérard walked off along the Old Canal of Utrecht. Trees were budding, stars were twinkling and the world was generally at peace. He stopped for a moment to fill his massive lungs with the fragrance of the fresh leaves.

Then something bit him in the neck.

With a nibleness born out of practice, Nadine leapt at the huge man and sank her teeth neatly into his jugular vein.

It was not at all what she'd expected.

Nadine had anticipated the warm, sweet taste of blood, mingled with stale sweat from the man's well-muscled neck, and maybe a long, black hair or two, to be spat out later.

Instead, a blast of liquid energy filled her mouth and forced itself down her throat and all the way through her body into the smallest veins in her fingers and toes. Nadine's eyes flew open and she gasped for air, although she hadn't needed to breathe for years. She felt as though she had stepped out of a Platonic cave where she'd drank shadows of blood for years, and suddenly tasted its purest essence, glowing with life and strength, sweeter than sin...

Then the blow hit her.

Nadine heard a sound like two cars crashing at full speed and suddenly, stars were all around her and she flew backwards, past fences and houses and street lights... She became aware of a dull, throbbing sensation in her face, but as soon as she noticed it, the power of her Blood closed the wound, mending bones and knitting flesh together so that not even the smallest scar remained.

As soon as Nadine hit the cobblestones, she was up again, hot, pulsing energy coursing through her lifeless body. She could take on the world!

Then, abruptly, the adrenaline high left her. The man, the merest sip of whose blood had made Nadine feel like she was mightier than the gods, stood before her. From the look on his face, it seemed Nadine had pissed him off.

The moment Gérard felt the sharp sting of pointy teeth in his neck, he'd reacted with his usual reflex: a ham-sized fist aimed straight towards the place where the attacker's head should be. A satisfying crunch told him his reflexes were still accurate. He swirled about, ready to pounce on the mysterious assaulter, his mild drunkenness already forgotten: Gérard might have been at ease, but he was still an Amberite.

His attacker, a girl in her early twenties, clad in a long black dress, was already standing. Blood dripped down her chin, but whether it was hers or his, Gérard was not certain. She must have been quite strong, though, to survive one of his legendary punches. Now, however, he had enough space for a full swing.

Gérard observed the girl as she shook her long hair out of her face. If she leapt at him again, he would strike at her throat. If she ran off to warn others of her kind, he would catch and grapple her.

The girl, however, did not attack or run away. She simply stood there with huge, terrified eyes, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a monster truck, staring towards the huge man who could kill her as easily as he could swat a fly.

Gérard took a deep breath. He'd gloriously fought raging foes who had hurled themselves on his blade. He'd personally destroyed traitors, spies and cowards who deserted their posts when they were most needed.

He'd also killed innocent soldiers with glazed eyes and shaky hands, who had no intention at all to hurt him, but just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yes, he had killed them. But it had never gotten easy.

This girl had definitely stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time.

Gérard knew that, despite all his soothing thoughts, she was a blood-sucking monster, dead already, judging by her pale face and still chest. And she had assaulted a Prince of Amber! It was his duty to avenge this impertinence...

Gérard sighed, his anger already drained away. He'd went on many hunting trips into the forest of Arden with his brother Julian, and had left ten times as many mosquito bites unavenged there. He couldn't even feel the wound anymore; the only evidence it had left was probably a small dark stain in his cloak. The only thing the girl had done that really mattered to him was spoiling his evening with those frightened eyes. Getting his hands all bloody wouldn't improve that in the least.

Suddenly, Gérard felt very tired. He wanted to go home.

Nadine watched as the huge man seized her up with his eyes. She felt as though pure fear coated her with a thin layer of unbreakable iron, nailing her to the ground and wringing the last vestiges of warmth out of her cold skin. Her blood burned with raw power, but it wouldn't help her now. Nothing could help her. She would die. And she could not even open her mouth to scream.

Then, the huge man unclenched his fists and reached into a vest pocket. It seemed strange to Nadine that he would draw a gun to kill her: his massive knuckles could easily have brought down a horse. Maybe he just didn't want to make a mess. Nadine's stomach tightened as she considered that last possibility.

The man drew a packet of cards.

Nadine gasped in surprise. Immediately, the man turned towards her, seemingly annoyed that she was still there.

"Bugger off," said the man. Without watching if Nadine actually obeyed him, he took a card from his deck. Nadine, who was still rooted to the spot by sheer terror, could discern the faint outlines of a castle's hall on the card. The huge man stared intensely at it.

Then, he stepped forward and disappeared into thin air, leaving only a rainbow-coloured shimmering hue behind, the only evidence that an over-two-hunderd pound giant had stood there just a moment ago.

Nadine stood and stared for five full minutes. Then, a drunken passer-by shouted something at her as he rode by on his bike, and she regained her sense. Had she not felt the incredible power of the man's blood in her veins, she would have fainted.

She definitely had to speak to her sire.


	2. Breakfast at Amber's

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter I

Dragon Hunter1 and Cynewulf: thanks for your encouraging reviews. Publishing a story can be just like giving away a box of chocolates: you never know what kind of reaction you're gonna get...

Chapter II

_Breakfast at Amber's_

When Gérard woke up in his royal bedchambers, it was early afternoon. He felt worse than usual: his stomach was a little queasy and his head seemed as clouded as the sky outside. Probably nothing, however, that a good breakfast wouldn't help. He shaved and washed himself, then went to the kitchen and ordered breakfast: fried eggs with bacon, and lots of sausages. As the cooks went to work, Gérard entered the dining room.

Despite the time, two of his siblings were present, eating in silence. One was sister Fiona, starting the day with a bowl of fresh fruit and yoghurt, carefully orchestrating each movement her spoon made on the long way from the bowl to her small mouth. Probably been reading or 'doing research' all night again; Fiona was prone to do that.

The other one was Benedict, Gérards eldest brother, working his way through a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese which he cut up with surgical precision, as if he was defusing a bomb. Gérard frowned: Benedict usually was an early riser. Perhaps he was already having lunch.

Gérard seated himself. The others acknowledged his presence with a curt nod, then resumed eating. Within short, the cook brought him a plate full of sizzling eggs and bacon and delicious-smelling sausages.

"Done anything interesting last night?" Fiona asked suddenly.

Gérard shrugged, his mouth full of sausage. Fiona, like all family members, was not a type for small talk. And he had no intention of revealing yesterday's unfortunate incident.

"Been out," he said, "had a drink." Gérard carefully looked away: Fiona's clear gaze could probably read the truth in his eyes if he wasn't careful, down to the exact number of times he'd scratched his ass. She was a master in reading eyes.

"Fire," Benedict noted without looking up.

"What?" Gérard asked.

"Vampires fear fire," Benedict explained, as if he was lecturing a small child. "Had you carried a lantern, you wouldn't have had any trouble."

Gérard was baffled. How could the man probably...?

Then he realized. In turning away from Fiona, he had exposed his neck to Benedict. And as his sister was an expert in reading eyes, his older brother was an expert in reading scars.

"It was an advanced shadow," Gérard protested. "A lantern would have looked... silly."

Benedict actually looked up and glanced at his brother before resuming lunch. The glance said so much as that no sane shadow dweller would dare to call a man like Gérard silly, so taking a lantern would have been no problem at all, on the contrary, it would have been a sensible precaution given the dangers of some shadows, especially as Gérard was a Prince of Amber, who should take exemplary care of himself since his head would be a valuable prize for so many, which was the reason that Benedict himself had trained him in all kinds of combat situations for years and years on end, not to mention all the invaluable advice Gérard had received from the man who had confronted and defeated the vampire lords of the dismal shadow of Ravenloft armed only with a fruit knife and a book of matches while Gérard was still wetting his diapers, and that therefore he would appreciate Gérard listening to him, just now and then.

There was only one habit of Benedict that Gérard found more annoying than his constant lecturing, and that was that he always was so bloody right. Then again, Benedict was probably sincerly concerned for his well-being, which was more than he could say of certain other siblings.

"A vampire. Interesting," Fiona remarked in an uninterested tone, which could mean she found it interesting after all. Gérard had no mind for wordplay, however. He wolfed down his last sausages in silence and went away. Soon, he would be sailing on the ocean again without any family members around, and peacefully forget all about last night.

Fiona, however, wouldn't.


	3. Herr Viktor

**Of the Blood**

I know, it's been a week... Sorry PrincessEilonwy (and others).

A longer chapter then, for compensation. I hope I have more time to write next week, since I am quite interested how chapter 5 will turn out (talk about teasers ;-) ) Oh, and Corwin will be there too.

Interesting, by the way, that everyone comments on the pan-galactic gargle blasters. Maybe I should just have named my story 'The hitch hiker's guide to Shadow,' forgetting all about vampires and writing instead about an earthling and his friend, who actually is from 'a little shadow in the vicinity of Begma,' and their narrow escape from chaos demons who demolish Shadow Earth to make way for a new Black Road bypass.

Nah. Feel free to take up the challenge, if you like.

Chapter 3

_Herr Viktor_

Nadine definitely needed to speak to her sire.

As she walked down the Old Canal towards the upper-class neigbourhood where he lived, she felt quite uneasy. The Blood churned through her veins with every step, flooding through her muscles and infusing them with an energy that made her feel she was leaping down the street, instead of stumbling under the burden of sheer power. Still, she did not feel the inclination to stop and rest, or sit down. It was more the opposite: the health and vitality of the blood tore at her undead system, as a young horse would pull at a worn bridle. Nadine had to make an effore not to get washed away by its power.

Fortunately, she had been practising self-control for over a year now. The Beast would not get her, whatever its form. Herr Viktor. She had to concentrate on Herr Viktor...

Nadine emerged from a winding alley – and found herself standing in the street in which her sire lived, or rather, resided. She blinked in disorientation. The walk from the city center to her sire's house normally took about twenty minutes. She checked her watch, then remembered she did not know at what time she had left.

To be sure, she looked where she had come from. It seemed that she had just emerged from a broad street, lined with trees, leading deep into a residential area. A road sign informed passers-by that it was a dead end.

Nadine pressed her forefingers to her temples: she had completely lost the memory of walking this far. She knew from her studies in medical biology that memory lapses were not uncommon after a traumatic incident. Still, it was scary.

But anyway, she was where she wanted to be. Resolutely, she walked up to Herr Viktor's house and rang the bell.

After a minute, a dark figure emerged from the living room, strangely distorted through the nontransparent glass. Nadine's sire opened the door.

Herr Viktor was in every way unlike the vampires of popular fiction. His grey hair, wrinkles and calm attitude couldn't be farther from the sensual-and-wild Dracula stereotype, while his friendly eyes hid a Beast that had long since given up hope of taking over the mild-mannered individual. He seemed to have not a neon-sign, but rather a small, handwritten piece of parchment hanging over his head, saying: "I am just an inconspicuous scholar doing my job." Nadine knew that he _was just an inconspicuous scholar doing his job, except on those occasions when he went on an 'evening stroll' for blood, or on that memorable September evening when he had drained Nadine dry and, feeding her some of his own blood, had turned her into a vampire._

"Gut evening, Nadine," Herr Viktor said in his fatherly voice. He had been in the Netherlands for over a century now, but still had not lost his Austrian accent. "Something happened?" He inquired as he saw Nadines grave face.

"Yes, quite."

"Komm in then," her sire said. "I'll make you a cup of Tee."

As Nadine sat down in one of Herr Viktor's comfortable chairs, she felt herself gradually beginning to relax. The worst part of the energy surge had passed, and something in her sire's welcoming room always put her at ease, even the first time she had arrived here, her clothes stained with her own blood, aching all over and feeling utterly miserable.

Within short, Herr Viktor reappeared with two steaming mugs of tea. Nadine accepted hers and took a sip. She couldn't digest the hot liquid, but the taste was comforting anyway.

"So," her sire gently inquired. "What happened?"

Nadine told him of her encounter with the huge, well-muscled man whose blood had tasted so powerful, how he had punched, yet refrained from killing her, instead disappearing into some kind of playing card. She kept silent about her sudden arrival at his house: no need to bother her sire with memory lapses now.

Herr Viktor listened intently. When Nadine was finished, he asked: "So, have you tried to evoke the power of this blood, then? See what it does?"

"Not really," Nadine confessed. "I haven't had time to experiment."  
"Well," her sire said, "try it now."

For a scholar, Herr Viktor could be surprisingly practical. Nadine concentrated and let the blood flow through her arm muscles. She could feel herself strengthening, filling her arms with supernatural might. Then, she attempted to lift one of Herr Viktors comfortable recliner chairs.

The chair felt as light as a wooden stool. In surprise, Nadine threw the recliner chair across the room with very little effort. Herr Viktor's old parrot, who had previously been dozing, squawked in alarm as the chair flew past and fluttered in its cage.

"Amazing," Herr Viktor said after a full minute of astonished silence. Nadine didn't reply: she was still staring at her small, delicate hands.

Herr Viktor stood up and took a closer look at the recliner chair, which was now lying in front of the kitchen door. "Amazing," he repeated. "Could you accidentally have drank from one of the Ancients, perhaps?"

"I don't think he was a vampire," Nadine muttered. "He was warm and breathing when I bit him." Furthermore, an Ancient would not have shown mercy, as far as she knew. She understood her sire's question, however: old prophecies declared that the night of Gehenna would come soon, the night when the most ancient vampires would arise to feast on the blood of their progeny. But the big man had surely not been a vampire.

"A Wehrwulf, maybe?" Herr Viktor asked. "I've heard they have very potent blood."

Nadine shook her head. "Could have been, but... I don't think so."

"Vhy not?"

"A werewolf would instantly have torn me apart. Besides, their blood would taste much more spicey, more..." Nadine groped for the right word, "..._primal."_

"Vell then," Herr Viktor sighed, "I give up. Can I see some of your blood? To feel its Essenz?"

"Of course." Nadine cleared her throat and spat blood into her opened palm. The red liquid glistened in the soft lamplight. Carefully, Herr Viktor extended a wrinkled finger and touched the fluid. Having devoted much of his unlife to the study of blood, Nadine knew that her sire could feel its power and origin as easy as he could feel its liquid warmth. Herr Viktor closed his eyes.

Suddenly, he staggered back, as if struck in the face. Quickly, he wiped the blood off his finger and stared at Nadine with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Ve need to do some laboratory research," he said and glanced at the clock. "Soon, but not now. Kann you come back tomorrow?"

"Of course," Nadine said, puzzled. Could Herr Viktor, who had been researching human and vampiric blood for over a century, be as baffled by her powers as she? And if so, what did that mean?

Well, tomorrow they would go to the laboratory and sort everything out. That ought to be the end of the mystery. Until then, she would try to get a good day's sleep.

"Tomorrow evening, then," she said. "Goodbye, Herr Viktor."

"Till tomorrow, Nadine," her sire said. "Don't run into any trouble."

Nadine laughed to hide her own nervousness. "Don't worry," she answered. "It's only one day. What could possibly happen?"

"I don't know." Herr Viktor shrugged. "Just be careful."

"As always." She smiled as she left the house and waved her sire goodbye. Now, all that was left was a brisk walk through the city to her small student home...

As she turned the corner, she almost walked into her front door.

Nadine took a step back and regarded the house. It was definitely hers. And it was definitely not in the place it used to be – no: _she _was not where she had expected  to be. She was surrounded by familiar concrete student housings, and a long walk away from her sire.

A memory lapse, again?

"Weird," Nadine muttered as she opened the door, went in and collapsed on her bed.

---

"Excuse me, miss, but ye're not allowed to ride a horse on the freeway. May I have your name, please?"

"Of course." The small lady, clad in a grey-and-green riding cloak, looked down on the police officer with clear, blue eyes. It seemed as if her luxurious red hair glowed to match the colours of the setting sun, or the reddish-brown coat of her slender riding horse. "Princess Fiona of Amber."

"Princess?" The police officer frowned.

"That is correct," the lady answered. "Are you not going to kneel before me?"

Immediately, the officer kneeled. He remained kneeling as the lady rode away, until several hours later, another police officer happened to pass by, shook him out of his hypnotic trance and fined him for obstructing the traffic.

---

As Nadine opened her eyes, she saw the handsome, finely-sculpted face of a lady of indeterminate age. Her first impulse was to scream in surprise, but the lady issued a calm reassurance that made Nadine hesitate for a second.

"Good evening," the lady smiled.

Then, her wide, blue eyes seemed to beam straight into Nadine's skull. She wanted to look away, but found herself unable to move.

The piercing gaze bored into Nadine's mind, searing away her fragile resistance and absorbing all of her memories and thoughts, down to the most private and painful ones. It was as if the lady's pupils had become two enormous black holes, hungering for Nadine's knowledge. The eyes drained her and she was helpless to resist, just as when Herr Viktor had drank all her blood before turning her into a vampire - now the eyes saw that memory too. Nadine desperately tried to do something, _anything, but the gaze kept her pinned down to her bed like a butterfly to a collector's board, wringing all she knew and held dear out of her._

Suddenly, it was over.

The eyes, and the lady, were gone. Nadine wanted to cry, scream, run away, but she felt numb and paralysed. Someone had just broken into her mind and seen everything that Nadine had meant to keep private. She vowed never to look directly into those eyes again.

Nothing that happened tonight could be any worse.

Fiona walked away, riffling through the vampire's memories as she did so. In the time it would take her to ride back to Amber, she could examine them carefully and note what Gérards blood had done to her. It was probably of no more than academic interest, but...

Fiona froze in her tracks.

The vampire had walked through Shadow.

This opportunity called for an experiment.

Fiona turned around and strode back.

With much effort, Nadine clenched and unclenched her fingers. They were tingling and prickling in protest. Within a few minutes, she would probably be able to get up.

Then the lady strode into view again.

"I've changed my mind," she said. "You are coming with me, to walk the Pattern."


	4. The Pattern

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see chapter I.

Author's note: I noticed I haven't specified at what time during the Amber Chronicles this story takes place: I think I'll opt for 'just after book five,' since I know the first five books best and am not much of a chaos person anyway.

Chapter 4

_The Pattern_

"Good day, Roger. All quiet in the caverns?"

"Good afternoon, lady Fiona. A rat, a bat, a spider. Nothing much else astir. Peaceful."

"Can you hand me a lantern?"

"Of course, m'lady." The lean, cadaverous guard took a lantern from the rack, lit it and handed it to Fiona. Only then did he notice the dazed, black-haired girl behind her.

"Taking a guest to see the Pattern, then?"

"Sort of."

"I assume king Random knows about it?"

"Oh, it won't be long."

The guard shrugged his bony shoulders. "All right," he said. "I hope you enjoy your visit to our caverns," he added to the girl.

She just nodded mutely.

"The Pattern," Fiona said.

Nadine looked about the large, dank cave. It reminded her vaguely of others she had visited on a holiday in France with her parents, long ago – except those didn't have a blue-white spiral burned in the rock floor.

Nadine couldn't help but staring at the spiral that glowed with an eerie light. She could almost smell its radiance. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't remember what, as if she had seen it in a dream but forgotten it upon awakening. It was beautiful – but it was scary, too. It was like a huge waterfall, much more powerful than human or vampire alike.

"You are going to walk over the line to the centre," Fiona declared. "You are not to stray from the line, stop walking or turn back. Any questions?"

Nadine's mind was filled with questions, and even more with strong feelings of dread. She opened her mouth, and found it almost too dry to speak.

"What will happen?" she croaked.

"If I knew that," Fiona said briskly, "you wouldn't have to walk it. Off you go!"

Unable to resist Fiona's will, Nadine stepped on the Pattern.

As soon as her foot touched the thin blue-white line, sparks shot up around her feet. An electric current raced up through Nadine's body, burning and engulfing her with blue pain. Her hair crackled with energy and she screamed as she felt her body being consumed by the flames.

All of her body. Except the blood, as if she was no more than a puddle of liquid life.

The blood, however, felt stronger than ever before. Slowly, it expanded and grew, and she felt sensation return to her limbs, as if they had been destroyed, then regrown from her very essence.

With a painful prickling, her fingers and toes announced they were still, or again, complete. Nadine blinked the blue fire away with eyes that hurt from the glare, and looked down.

Her left foot stood firmly and undamaged on the line. Small sparks danced over it, as pixies round a fairy mound.

She was still whole. But there was no turning back now.

She took another step.The resistance was just a little bit stronger than the first, but Nadine no longer felt as if her body was being burned. She just felt the static electricity running up her spine. It was not pleasant, but it wasn't painful either, and it felt strangely familiar. Boldly, she took several more steps.

Soon, however, the resistance rose and Nadine found it harder and harder to raise her feet, let alone move them forward for the next step. It was as if she waded into increasingly deep waters, and felt the pressure rising against her legs, her hips, her chest. She faltered, but continued. The pressure was like a strong current now, threatening to throw her off balance. Nadine had to put her other foot in front of the first, but she could hardly lift her leg, let alone move it forward. Ever so slowly, she began to tilt over...

Then, a surge of energy flooded through her veins, seemingly coming from nowhere. She seized the opportunity and broke through the invisible barrier. Abruptly, the pressure fell away and she stumbled forward over the blue line. Nadine wiped bloody sweat off her brow with her sleave and continued. She realised she had passed the First Veil, whatever that meant, but that there were still two to go, both more difficult than the preceding. Not that it mattered: she had no choice but to go on.

With some satisfaction, Nadine noted that she had already traversed quite a stretch of the spiral pathway and was gradually approaching its centre. It was still a long way, though, and every step felt as though she had to pull her feet out of a layer of mud first. Blue sparks danced around her knees. The lady Fiona was no more than a shimmering shade now, far, far away in another world outside the blue light. Nadine wondered what expression she wore. Amazement? Boredom, that it took so long? Fear?

No time to worry about that, now. Nadine focused on the glowing line before her and concentrated on moving forward, one small step at a time.

Soon, the feeling of mud around her feet grew stronger. It slowly crept upwards as she walked along curves, sharp turns and a long straight line. The mud carried pebbles with it that stung in Nadines limbs and neck. Her eyeballs first grew chill in their sockets, then glowed as with fever. The mud completely enveloped her, leaving only the blue line of the Pattern in the darkness before her, close, yet far away, and reaching for it cost her so much strength... Sparks raced through her hair, making it crackle like fried bacon. Nadine could smell the ozone, and felt as if she had to swim forward instead of walking. The mud thickened, cracked, grew almost solid.

Then, Nadine felt another surge of energy, and with a tremendous effort of will, broke through the barrier. She had to be at the center; she was certain she couldn't handle another step.

But she knew that she had only passed the Second Veil and, after the Grand Curve, there waited the _grande finale._

Having no choice, she continued on.

After the second Veil, the Grand Curve was almost a pleasure, like bleeding to death had almost been a pleasure compared to being turned into a vampire. Nadines feet burned, the Pattern burned, the blood burned. She followed a short turn, then another, then another, then... Shouldn't she have crossed the line already? Nadine didn't know. The sparks danced in front of her eyes, making the blue-white line in front of her swim in and out of focus. Did the blasted thing never end?! Nadine grabbed hold of her anger and forced it into her legs, channeling it into one more step. Over there? She blinked.

Nadine saw the sparkling line end in blackness before her. Just three more steps.

The first was an eternity of stepping through solid rock.

The second was even worse.

One to go... She could hardly remember where she was, or who she was. She knew she wanted only one thing: to stop. She knew she could do only one thing: go on. The peculiar energy flooded through her again, but it was not enough to break the last barrier. Nadine felt crushed between the power that drove her forward and the power that hold her back. If she didn't move soon, it would grind her into dust.

Like hell it wouldn't.

She stepped into the center of the Pattern.

Nadine collapsed, like a puppet abandoned by her puppetteer. Tears ran down her cheeks into her black dress. She couldn't see the lady anymore. She didn't care. She just wanted to be home.

Suddenly, she was.

The lady Fiona also collapsed in exhaustion. Carrying the blood of Gérard, the vampire had survived stepping onto the Pattern. She didn't have the endurance of an Amberite, however, so Fiona had had to lend her strength to Nadine, so that she could press onward through the Veils.

She was mildly surprised that the vampire had actually made it.

Not that the vampire knew what it meant, however. That didn't matter. All it _really_ meant was that another pawn had appeared in the great game of Amber. A pawn that only Fiona knew of, as she had undoubtedly gone home in Shadow. The energy was well spent.

Fiona breathed deep, then rose. She would lie down for an hour or so to regain her strength, then draw a trump of Nadine. She returned through the cavern to the guard post.

"Welcome back, lady Fiona," Roger said as he returned her lantern to the rack. "All well, I trust?"

"Indeed," Fiona said, "thank you."

"And the girl?"

"What girl?" Fiona asked with her sweetest smile.

The eyes of the guard misted over for a moment. "I... don't know, I think," he muttered. "Good day, m'lady."

Fiona's day went as she had planned – for two minutes, at least. Then, as she walked through one of the marble hallways of castle Amber to her own chambers, she heard a thundering clap_ coming from down the hall – from Corwin's room._

Fiona shook herself out of her reverie and ran down the hall. Corwin's door was closed, but she sensed no immediate danger on the other side, so she opened it carefully.

Corwin lay in his room against a wall, covered in soot and shards of glass that had bitten deep into his skin. The source of the noise had probably been the smouldering remains of a package standing on a low table, now cracked and blackened. No new attack would be forthcoming. Fiona ran over to her brother and produced bandages and a pair of pincers.

The Lord Corwin, prince of Amber and long-time contestant for the throne, was a mess. Ashes covered his silver-and-black cloak, and the explosion had torn off his silver rose-clasp. Blood ran down his arms and forehead. Fiona quickly checked his face, but it seemed that the big man had been able to cover most of it with his left arm as the shards hit him. The attack had not been deadly; maybe it was not even meant to be.

"What happened?" Fiona asked as she started to pluck out the shards and bind the wounds. Her steady voice seemed to shake Corwin out of his shock.

"Found a package as I came home," he grunted. "Thought one of the servants had left it for me. There was a skull of glass in it, but it exploded as soon as I looked at it."

"Exploded?" Fiona inquired.

"Don't ask me," Corwin sighed. "Someone must have pulled a clever trick to make it work. Maybe..." Suddenly, he stared right past Fiona to the wall of his room.

Fiona swirled around, half expecting another attack. Corwin had only been looking at sooty letters inscribed in the wall, however. They read:

NOW I HAVE A MACHINE GUN TOO

HO HO HO

The handwriting was unmistakeably Brand's.

"Shit," Fiona and Corwin said.


	5. Another chance encounter

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see chapter I.

Oh, did I already mention I love reviews? I really do and find them really stimulating to go on writing!

Not that I'm begging or anything... ;-)

Chapter 5

_Another chance encounter_

"Hey, bartender!"

"What can I do for you, lady?"

"What's the strongest you've got?"

The bartender scratched his sweat-covered bald head. "Funny you ask me," he said. "Just the other day, a big, strangely-clad guy came along and left me a bottle of this." He produced a small, slender bottle with the letters P.G.G.B. imprinted on it.

"Is it strong?"

"Knocked  three of my clients unconscious."

"I'll take it."

"Are you sure you can handle it, lady?"

Nadine nodded. "Right now, I find sobriety a lot harder to handle. Fill me up."

The bartender shrugged and served Nadine a delicate glass full of the green-yellowish liquid. It swirled with the promise of forbidden pleasures and ditto pains, like Eve's apple. Nadine took a sip. It felt like she was being hit on the head with a golden brick. Much better than the memory of the Pattern burning in her blood. She took another sip.

Nadine had lain on her bed until her legs felt whole again, then went out to have a drink. She could easily have visited one of her friends, lots of whom kept their refridgerator generously stocked with liquor, but what could she tell them? The story would sound implausible to even the most horrendously disfigured vampire, and apart from that, she herself hardly knew what happened.

The fact that she had arrived in her favourite pub just by stepping through the front door of her home did nothing to improve her spirits either. The booze did. Somewhat.

Immersed in her own thoughts, Nadine was barely aware of the appearance of a tall, black-haired man beside her, clad in a cloak of black and silver.

"This stool free?" he asked.

"Help yourself," Nadine muttered and returned to her drink.

The man sat down. "Say, bartender," he asked, "what's the strongest you've got?"

The bartender arched his eyebrows. "Another one?" he said. "Maybe you should exchange stories with the girl next to you. Anyway, we have this." He unstopped the P.G.G.B. bottle. The stranger sniffed.

"It's OK," he said, "I'll take it."

The bartender poured him a glass. The tall man took a swig that made Nadine wince. She was an 'experienced' drinker, and becoming a vampire had made her even more resilent to alcohol. Still, it seemed this man could handle the strong stuff far better than she.

The stranger looked at Nadine. He was quite handsome, she noticed. He also had a look of gloomy determination over him that made him somehow look scary. Nadine didn't mind. In fact, as a vampire who was immersed in the local gothic scene, she could even appreciate it.

"So," the man said, "had a rough day?"

"Quite," Nadine answered, before she remembered that she was not really in the mood to talk. What the hell... She drank more of the green liquid.

"Me too," he said.

All of a sudden, Nadine felt defiant. "Mine was worse," she said.

The man smiled at her with a fatherly smile. "No way," he answered.

"Wanna bet?"

The man looked at his glass and sighed: "Shoot, I'm in. Nothing but the complete truth. Loser pays next drink."

"It's a deal," Nadine said and shook his hand. "You start."

"Okay," the stranger said. "First off, I'm no ordinary guy. I call myself Carl Corey, but actually I'm Corwin, superhuman prince of the one real world of Amber."

"Yeah, and I'm a vampire," Nadine muttered. The man looked at her, as if he actually believed her without a second thought. She found it unsettling.

"Anyway," he continued, "me and my brothers and sisters lived quite peacefully for centuries on end. Oh, there was the occasional struggle for the throne of Amber, of course. Got my eyes burned out once for being on someones bad side – don't worry, as you can see, they've regenerated." He pointed at his face. Sure enough, Nadine couldn't find even the smallest scar, but neither could she detect any hint of mockery. Either the man was still telling the truth, or he was an incredibly good liar.

"So, nothing serious," he continued. "Then, however, came one of my brothers. Let's call him Brand. To Brand, conquering the throne was not enough. He wanted a whole universe of his own. So he studied, and studied, and studied until he knew how it had to be done – and how to gain the power to do it. Among other things, it involved the destruction of the old one. To attain that goal, he nearly killed his nephew, my oldest brother and myself - multiple times - but actually only succeeded in killing one of my sisters when he saw that we had beaten him." The last remark sounded especially bitter. "In the end, he was shot through the neck with two arrows and fell into the deepest pit imaginable." The man paused for a dramatic effect. Nadine waited patiently.

"Now, however," he said, "Brand has returned and has made it quite clear that he wants me dead. I played a part of some importance in his demise, you see. That's why I'm here."

"Impressive," Nadine nodded.

"That means you're buying the next round?"

"No," she said, "that means it actually comes close to my story."

"You see," she continued, "My name is Nadine. I was made a vampire some years ago, and had just begon to settle comfortably in my undead existence. Then, one night ago, I sneaked up on this huge man to bite him and drink a drop. Instead of falling in a trance however, as most vampiric victims do, he punched me. Hard. But not before I had a taste of his blood; it felt strong and powerful and... More _real _than anything I've ever tasted. I was afraid he would kill me, but he just looked at me and... disappeared through some kind of playing card."

"Interesting," the man said. "Go on."

"Next, I went to my sire to give the matter some consideration. Strangely enough, I arrived at his house almost as soon as I started walking. My sire, who has been studying blood for over a century, couldn't recognize it either. So we agreed to do some laboratory tests and I went home – again, much faster than I'd expected."

"When I woke up the next evening, however, I found myself staring in the green eyes of a small, red-haired, smiling lady who forced herself into my mind and riffled through all my memories, as if I was a cheap book," Nadine continued, shuddering at the memory. "Then she said: 'You are coming with me to walk the Pattern,' and next thing I knew, I had to walk over a blue spiral pathway that made every step feel like climbing up a mountain."

"Tough," the man said. He seemed genuinely impressed.

"Yes," Nadine nodded, "but I did it. Then, when I was finished, I was home again, and desperately in need of a strong drink. That's why I'm here."

"Bartender," the guy who called himself Corwin said, "bring us two more drinks. I'll pay."

Nadine and Corwin drank their next drinks in silence.

"But having a presumed-dead brother trying to kill you is also pretty bad, I admit," Nadine said.

"Yeah, well, I should be used to that kind of thing by now," Corwin sighed. "Anyway, I think I've had enough for tonight."

"You're leaving already?" Nadine realized she had begun to find his presence strangely comforting.

"I have to," he said, "but before I go..." He reached in his coat pocket and produced a deck of playing cards. One of them, he handed to Nadine.

Nadine gasped. On it was the picture of the very same man that sat before her, but now he bore a blade and silver, scaled gloves. He looked somehow like a mythical hero. Moreover, the card felt strangely cold and reminded her strongly of the one the big guy had used to whisk himself away.

"If you feel a strange, tingling sensation in the back of your head, as if someone is trying to get your attention, concentrate on my picture," Corwin said. "Otherwise, hide it very, very carefully."

"You know the lady who abducted me, don't you?" Nadine asked.

"I've never _really_ known her," Corwin sighed. "Good night, Nadine." Nadine watched as he left the pub, taking huge, strong strides as he went. Some girls at a table next to the door whistled as he walked by, but he paid them no attention.

Nadine stared at the cool, smooth playing card. The picture stared back at her.

"If someone steps in and says: 'Congratulations, you're on candid camera!' now, I'm going to strangle him." she muttered.


	6. Return of the living dead

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.

Chapter 6

_Return of the living dead_

Fiona stared at her deck of trumps. She was sitting in a comfortable chair in her own sitting room. Two servants stood outside, instructed to stop anyone trying to knock at her door. The fragrant smell of incense drifted through the chamber. Everything in the situation was arranged to make her at ease.

Well, almost everything.

Fiona regarded her cards. On top lay Bleys, her full blood-brother, smiling at her. She wondered where he was. Probably gone away to 'find some action' after the Patternfall War. He would be quite upset to find out what he'd been missing, she thought – unless her elusive brother was involved in it already. No way to find out, except calling him.

She had another full blood-brother to call first.

Fiona thumbed trough her trump deck from bottom to top. First, she passed the trumps of her long-deceased siblings Finndo and Osric, their pictures fresh as if painted yesterday, but for the thin layer of dust on the top.

Next came Oberon, her father. She turned his card over quickly.

Then came Dierdre. Such a waste.

Then – there he was, all clad in green, riding on a white horse: Brand. Fiona could only guess at the knowledge those inscrutable eyes hid for her. She breathed in and out until she was sure she did no longer emanate fear. Then she concentrated on Brand's picture.

It took a long time before Fiona felt anything. Then, the image of Brand dissipated in a vague, red mist. Only his eyes remained gazing at her, far more intense than they had been painted. Fiona held her ground, however.

"Well, well," a faint voice hissed that was unmistakeably Brand's. "My sweet sister Fiona. How are you on this lovely day?"

"Better than you, I would guess," Fiona replied. Her eyes scanned Brand's background for clues of his whereabouts, but through the lazily pulsating red mist, she could only discern a wall made of heavy, moldy bricks.

"On the contrary, sister," the voice lisped. "For me, great promises lie ahead. I bet you _burn to know how I got out of the Abyss, don't you?"_

"In the current situation, it is a point of academic interest," Fiona answered. She desperately wanted to know, but she was not giving in to her mad brother if she couldn't help it.

"Ah... Always academic interest," Brand mused. "Shouldn't a woman of your... appearance also explore different interests? Too much time spent in books can drive one mad, you know. Wouldn't you rather trade the library for the throne? Ruling Amber and all of Shadow? You could be a queen fit for a king – a king like me. Wearing the Jewel of Judgment would surely let _me _feel whole again."

"You mean," Fiona replied, "after I captured you, imprisoned you and would have stabbed you to death except for that fool Gérard? You would destroy me the first chance you got."

"Of course, my dear sister. But I was planning on doing that anyway – along with the complete and utter destruction of Amber and the Primal Pattern, so I was really being quite generous."

"Destroying Amber?" Fiona smiled. Maybe she could draw Brand out – depending on how sane he was at the moment. He certainly didn't look as if he was in possession of his full mental – let alone physical - capacities. "You and what army?"

"Ask Julian, sweet sister – provided he's not too preoccupied with dying at the moment. See you!" Brand winked and the red-misted image disappeared.

Immediately, Fiona grabbed Julian's trump.

As Julian came into focus, Fiona saw that he sat sagged against a tree stump. His mighty armour was dented and bruised, and blood trickled down his nose. Before him lay the dead body of Corwin, Greyswandir still clutched in his hand, empty eyes staring hatefully up at the sky.

Fiona's mind raced through the possibilities. This couldn't be. Then, as she saw the corpse of Benedict lying a few metres further away, obviously felled by a sword thrust through the guts, she knew that it really couldn't be.

"Ha, Fiona," Julian muttered, "I was wondering when you would get wind of this."

"What happened?" she asked.

"Come and see for yourself." With some difficulty, Julian extended his hand. Fiona took hold of it and stepped through.

The floor of the forest of Arden was strewn with corpses: not only of Corwin and Benedict, but also of other members of the royal family. Fiona winced at seeing herself lying face down in the mud, her grey-and-green robe a mess of dirt and blood. The body smelled of urine and sweet decay.

She was not surprised to see that only one family member was lacking: Brand. Corwin and she, on the other hand, seemed to be present in exceptionally large numbers. Fiona estimated there must be at least a few dozen fake Amberites lying around.

Julian's soldiers were busy binding their wounds. Those who were still able to fight, regrouped near a clearing in the woods. Soft moans and barked orders carried through the otherwise quiet forest.

Fiona squinted. It wasn't just a clearing: it was a broad path of dirt, brown leaves and dead trees leading off to the south. Not a stalk of grass on the path was alive anymore. It was as if a giant bulldozer had driven straight through Arden – obviously heading for mount Kolvir and the castle of Amber.

"One of my hawks flew over it," Julian coughed. "Immediately fell to the ground. Dead. Looks like somebody has been laying blood curses again."

"These came from the path?" Fiona asked, prodding the dead Corwin with her boot.

"They were dead when they shambled into the forest," Julian nodded. "Put up quite a fight, still. My scouts tried to follow the road through Shadow to its source, but it kept slithering away from them. They didn't dare to cross it, either. Only the dead may walk there."

"You have called for reinforcements?"

"Gérard will be coming soon with fresh soldiers."

"That's arranged, then." Fiona glanced again at the zombie that bore her image, drew her card of Castle Amber and concentrated.

Only the dead may walk there...

She definitely had to create a certain trump.


	7. A sorely needed intermission

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

Chapter 7

_A sorely needed intermission_

Blood.

It was time to hunt for blood.

Even though Nadine felt like lying in bed all night, her Beast wouldn't stay put so easily. It lived only by the moment, and no matter what had happened last night, it was thirsty _now._

With a groan, Nadine climbed out of bed and dressed herself. Maybe it was a good idea to go hunting. Maybe it could take her mind off all those weird happenings.

Maybe.

Nadine stepped outside into a light drizzle, more mist than rain. The street smelled of damp concrete. Somewhere in the distance, an ambulance siren blared. Mist meant good cover; it also meant that few people would go out tonight.

Well, she needed only one.

_Just one, she thought to herself, __just some large, fat, sleepy student who wouldn't notice her, nor miss a pint of alcohol-saturated blood..._

She turned into a narrow street. Sure enough, staggering drunkenly right in front of her, was a large, fat student. He blinked at her with tired eyes, then walked on as if he didn't see her at all.

Nadine stood still and let the student pass. First the shortcut to Herr Viktor's house, then to the pub, and now this. It could hardly be a coincidence. Maybe she should... No, that would be plain silly.

About as silly as being abducted by a telepathic lady to a cavern with a glowing blue spiral. She slipped her hand into her pocket and fingered the card the man called Corwin had given her. It still felt distinctly cool to the touch. Somehow, it also felt comforting.

_All right, she thought, and started walking, __around the next corner is a blind alley with a garbage can in it, and the garbage can is full of cooled plasma bags._

Nadine rounded the corner and found herself in a blind alley. The only distinct feature in it, apart from a pile of junk in the gutter and the rusty remains of a bicycle without wheels, was a garbage can. It smelled of rotten fruit, but when Nadine lifted its cover, it was stuffed to the rim with cooled plasma bags.

Nadine tore a bag open with her teeth and started to drink. It tasted bland and stale, but nourishing. Just like the packets of orange juice her parents had always brought with them on trips to the zoo, but without a straw. She distinctly remembered spending a whole summer day in the artificial bat cave while her parents were out on the 'savannah.' Nadine smiled. She had always been a bat person.

Nadine finished drinking, put the empty plasma bag back in the can and carefully closed the cover. She still didn't know what the blood of the huge man or the glowing pattern had done to her, but it seemed as if she could manipulate her surroundings by force of will alone.

The question was: how far did this manipulation extend? She decided on a little experiment.

Fifteen minutes later, she ran off to find her best friend Janus, grinning broadly.

Janus was what vampires called a 'Nosferatu:' a member of the bloodline that showed the Beast on their faces and bodies, twisting them into creatures that had seemingly crawled from the fever-dreams of Hiëronymus Bosch. Janus, with his crooked nose and wrinkled, bald face was no exception. He walked with a limp and slept in a dilapidated tomb that was connected to the sewers. Those visitors that were not deterred by his horrid appearance still had to cope with his foul-smelling body, wrapped in the ragged, sour-reeking remains of a black overcoat, breath stinking of bad booze and a thoroughly cynical demeanor.

Janus did not receive many visitors.

Except for fellow Nosferatu, of course, and Nadine. Nadine had always thought that Janus, underneath his curmudgeon exterior, was really cute, and Janus had not succeeded so far in making her think otherwise. Her open stance had probably actually flattered him, and gotten her a valuable ally – and a friend.

Within minutes, Nadine reached Janus' tomb and knocked on the heavy, stone door.

"Yeah?" a raspy voice shouted, sounding remarkably like a crossover between Tom Waits and a rats' squeak.

"Hi Janus," Nadine answered, "it's me. Hey, why don't you come out of that tomb? I've got a surprise for you!"

Silence. Then, sloppy footsteps in the tomb. Janus opened the door and, lacking eyebrows, arched the bony ridges over his eyes.

"You brought a bottle of booze?"

"Ehm... No."

"Then why should it be worth my while?"

Nadine smiled. "You'll see. Just follow me."

Janus grunted something but followed Nadine anyway as she walked determinedly towards the gate of the cemetery.

After just a few minutes, Janus had lost track of where they were walking. He found it quite unsettling: Nosferatu usually knew all the little-used paths and alleys in a city, better to move through the place unnoticed.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Almost there," Nadine replied. "Ah, here it is!" She pointed towards a lavishly decorated mansion at the end of the street. Stone gargoyles guarded the heavy walls and gothic windows. The flowery garden, on the other hand, smelled sweetly of geraniums and mighty yew trees flanked the cobblestone path leading up from the wrought-iron gate to the front door.

"What is it?" Janus asked. He had never seen the structure before in Utrecht, and he had been around quite a lot.

"It is ours," Nadine smiled. "Come, enter!" She boldly walked up to the front door, opened it and let a hesitant Janus in.

The mansion seemed to consist of a single large room, mostly filled with an enormous jacuzzi. Bottles of soap and bath foam lined its golden rim. One of the softer songs of _Tool emanated from speakers hidden behind small date palms. Near the jacuzzi was a mini-bar that sported all sorts of alcoholic drinks, as well as plasma bags in various tastes. It was decadence incarnated._

"What do you think of it?" Nadine inquired.

Janus couldn't answer. His mouth hung open.

"Well," Nadine said, "what are you waiting for? Hop in." She undressed and stepped into the bubbling water of the jacuzzi herself. Nadine had been somewhat prudish in life, but now her only reproductive organ left was her blood, she hardly minded anymore.

The water was warm but not too hot, and small jets massaged her back. She instantly felt more relaxed and looked up at Janus, who still stood staring at the jacuzzi.

"Whose house is this?" he finally asked.

"Ours," Nadine replied. "At least, for tonight. Come on, I guarantee we won't have any problems."

Janus hesitated, then shrugged and stripped off his moldy clothes. His body was as warped and twisted as his face, but Nadine didn't mind: in her medical studies, she had seen too many gruesome pictures of debilitating diseases to be fazed by some wrinkles and tufts of hair growing in unusual places. The Nosferatu stepped into the hot water, leaned back and groaned with pleasure.

"Terrific," he murmured. "I haven't had a bath in about fifty years."

"Well," Nadine said, pouring bath foam that smelled of pine forests into the water, "tonight must be your lucky night."

Suddenly, as Nadine leaned back, she felt a cold, tingling sensation in the back of her head, as if someone was ringing a bell at the door to her mind. She looked at Janus, but he hadn't noticed, having his eyes closed and enjoying the bath. Quickly, she reached for her dress, took the card of Corwin from her pocket and concentrated on it.

Moments later, the tingling sensation seemed to flow into the picture. Nadine put the card back and relaxed.

Maybe the lady wouldn't bother her anymore now.

Fiona concentrated on the image of the pale-faced, young vampire that she had helped walking the pattern. Why did it take so long to establish a connection? Ah, there she...

No.

Before Fiona's eyes, the picture of Nadine grew into a tall man, clad in black and silver, sitting in front of a fireplace of a cozy Shadow Earth inn. It was her brother Corwin.

"Hello Fiona," he smiled, "expecting someone else?"

"It's a small multiverse," Fiona spoke, hiding her chagrin with only minor effort. "You've been talking to Nadine?"

"Indeed," Corwin answered. "She was a most pleasant conversation partner. Although a bit... upset... by recent happenings."

"That makes three of us," Fiona said. "At least, I assume you've heard about Julian?"

"Gérard was so kind as to update me," Corwin said. "He told me about the attack and the Bleak Road – that's what he called it – leading into the forest of Arden."

"That's exactly why I was calling Nadine," Fiona explained, biting back her temper. "Listen, Corwin. The Bleak Road can only be walked by the dead. That's why we need to use the vampire to..."

"Stop!" Corwin said and stood up, suddenly angry. "She has been _used _enough already! That's why I am protecting her."

"Developing a soft spot for undead blood-suckers, brother?" Fiona asked sweetly.

Corwin stared at her from underneath his heavy eyebrows. "Let's just say I don't like people being used and thrown away when the time happens to be convenient. Even Shadow people. Anyhow, Benedict will probably take care of the problem soon."

"Benedict is gathering an army as we speak," Fiona said. "But Brand has a distinct advantage. Or would you rather see Amber burn than a shadow vampire bleeding?"

"I trust my brothers enough to handle the problem by themselves," Corwin said. "As the situation stands, there is no need to involve Shadow dwellers in it."

"Well then, my dear brother," Fiona spoke, "let's hope that the situation remains standing. For if it doesn't, all of Shadow has a problem." Abruptly, she broke the contact.

Corwin leaned back in his comfortable chair. It had been a hard choice, but it felt good. Finally, an opportunity to help a simple Shadow vampire survive, who would otherwise have died as cannon fodder in a war she didn't know hell about. Yes, he had taken the right decision.

Suddenly, Corwin felt an urgent tingling in the back of his head. As he opened his mind for the contact, his youngest brother Random blazed in, looking uncharacteristically worried.

"Corwin," he gasped, as if he had just run up Mount Kolvir, "I need your help. The Jewel of Judgement has been stolen!"


	8. Does it never hurt to help?

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

I'm sorry PrincessEilonwy, but a romance between Nadine and Corwin would surely break poor old Janus' heart.

Oh, and _that_ would mean that my girlfriend would get really angry with me, something I (of course) wish to avoid under all circumstances... ;-)

Chapter 8

_Does it never hurt to help?_

"Uhm... Nadine?"

Nadine paused from sipping her Truly Bloody Mary (a name she and Janus had come up with while mixing drinks and the contents of several plasma bags.) "Yes, Janus?" she asked.

Janus, though relaxed, fidgeted around uncomfortably with a jar of bath salt. "Well, you see," he murmured in his broken voice, "I've been meaning to ask you something – ah, for quite some time..."

"Yes?" Nadine inquired drowsily.

"The point is..." Janus began.

Just then, the doorknob turned. Both vampires froze in surprise.

_Nadine, _Corwin thought, _I must find Nadine. _She should be somewhere on Shadow Earth – or possibly near it, if she had somehow picked up the basics of shadow shifting. Yet the Pattern led him away from the place. Maybe inside the old mansion that seemed to block his path whenever he tried to walk around it...

Corwin opened the front door and looked around the huge room. There was a jacuzzi, a bar, small palm and fig trees and soothing music. But no Nadine. Wait! Those clothes...

Suddenly, some naked, hideously deformed humanoid clambered out of the pool, screaming: "Go away, you..." Then it stopped as Greyswandir pointed straight at its chest.

"What have you done to Nadine, foul creature?!" Corwin barked. His heart pumped. If the monster had hurt her, he had failed to protect her... Amber would have lost a potential saviour... Still, he could at least take revenge.

"Stop that!" a female voice shouted. Corwin and his adversary looked around to see Nadine emerging from the bathtub, glowering with rage. "What do _you_ think you're doing?!"

"I thought he was going to attack you," both men replied, then looked at each other in surprise.

_Uh oh, _Corwin thought, _this is not going well. _Quickly, he lowered his sword.

"Ah... I came to ask a favour of you," he muttered.

"Well," Nadine said after a moment's hesitation. "You arrived at an inconvenient time. Mind if I call you back later?"

"Actually, I do have reason to hurry," Corwin said, staring intently at the blank wall behind the beautiful vampire to avoid more embarassment. "Could I please talk to you for a moment?"

Janus grumbled, but Nadine shrugged. "All right then," she said. "Just give me a moment to..."

Corwin walked to a clothes cabinet in a corner of the room, took out the black bathrobe that just had to be there and handed it to a surprised Nadine. "Of course," he said. "Mind if I fix myself a drink?"

"Not at all," Nadine answered.

"As long as you make me one, too," Janus shouted after him. "Do I need one," he grumbled softly as he picked up a towel.

Five minutes later, Nadine and Corwin were sitting on two luxurious chairs near the jacuzzi. Janus stood behind the bar, still muttering to himself and mixing another strong cocktail.

"Okay," Nadine said. "Tell me why you disturbed our quiet evening."

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Corwin hesitated, "but something has happened. Do you remember what I told you about my mad brother Brand?"

Nadine nodded.

"Well," Corwin sighed, "it seems as if he's trying to rush things. If we don't stop him soon, he might stand a good change of taking over Amber and destroying all possible worlds as they are now – including Earth."

"So why did you come to me?" Nadine asked sarcastically. "The way I understood you, your family should be superior to me in any aspect whatsoever."

"Not in _any_ aspect, I guarantee you," Corwin sighed. "Ethics, for example... But I digress. My mad brother has set up his stronghold in a place where only the dead may go. And, well, since you... Er... Because of your condition..." he fumbled with the silver rose clasp of his mantle. Damn! Where had his legendary eloquence gone?! Now, the vampire would surely laugh and say...

"All right," Nadine said briskly, "I'll help you."

Corwin looked at her, almost unable to believe that she had actually agreed.

"Well," Nadine shrugged, "if I'm the best qualified candidate to do the job, and otherwise I would surely be destroyed – along with all I hold dear – it is the logical choice, isn't it?"

"Yes... Indeed," Corwin admitted, wondering if the vampire could even begin to comprehend what she was up to. Still, she was right: she _was _the best qualified candidate to do the job.

"So... Do we have to go now?" Nadine asked.

Corwin nodded. "There is no time to waste. I will brief you on the way."

"Good," Nadine said. "But we _have_ to pass Earth."

"Why?" Corwin asked. "If you need anything, I can..."

Janus cleared his throat with a sound as if a drain was being unclogged. "First you take away my girl," he rasped, "then you leave without even bringing me home? Didn't think so, bud."

"I will bring you back first," Corwin said. "And I will do my utmost to bring Nadine back safely as well. That's a promise."

"You'd better," Janus grumbled.

Meanwhile, an emergency meeting was held in castle Amber.

King Random sat at the head of the table, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Not only was this his first major crisis, he also had to handle it without hisroyal symbol: the Jewel of Judgement. To make matters worse, his crisis team consisted of elder brothers and sisters, all of whom would be watching him very closely, evaluating all the strenghts and weaknesses in his words, his gestures, his actions to later use them to their advantage.

It was a good thing he was the best poker player Amber had ever known.

Random looked at the four siblings gathered around him. Fiona, at his left, returned his stare with a comforting smile he found not really that comforting. Next to her sat her full brother Bleys, juggling two knifes and two apples in such a way that the apples got neatly sliced in mid-air.

On Random's right side sat Caine, seemingly desinterestedly shuffling his deck of trumps. Next to him waited Benedict, dour and silent as ever, sitting still as a statue until the absolute need would come for him to say something.

"So," Random opened the meeting, "You all know about the current situation: now it's the time to find a solution. Fiona, you told me that a certain vampire carrying the blood of Amber could penetrate Brand's hiding place. Where is she now?"

"Corwin is fetching her as we speak," Fiona said.

Random thought about that. Corwin _had_ promised him to bring him Nadine, but only _after_ he'd last spoken to Fiona. How would she know? Undoubtedly a question she wouldn't answer. Just like how she had found Nadine in the first place.

No, correct that. She would give him a perfect, intelligible answer, then letting him walk away with the feeling that she had not told him the complete truth, but unable to put his finger on what was missing.

Best to go on to the next subject.

"OK," Random said. "Assuming the vampire will work for us, how is she going to get by Brand's undead clone army all by herself?"

"Trump," Benedict said.

"Excuse me?" Random asked.

Benedict motioned to Bleys, who caught both apples and daggers in one hand, while withdrawing his older brother's trump with the other. He focused on the picture until it changed into the image of Benedict sitting at the table. Then, he turned it around.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Amber's arms master threw a knife at Bleys. It disappeared in the trump and reappeared instantly flying at Benedict, who snatched it away and tucked it back into his belt in one fluid motion.

"Projectile transmission through trump," Bleys explained to a puzzled Random. "The vampire points the trump at the army, we do the projectile transmission." He tossed his daggers casually up in the air. The worst was probably, the king throught, that Benedict wasn't even showing off.

"Good. And Brand?" Random asked. "How will she tackle him?"

"Same principle," Fiona said. "Bleys and I will take it onto us to reach him through trump. Weakened as he is, he won't be able to resist us both."

"All right," Random concluded. So the whole plan had already been worked out beforehand. Probably as well: now the Jewel was gone, undoubtedly through the doing of Brand or one of his minions, quick action was in order. Fiona had said that her mad brother, even though not fully attuned to it, could probably still wield the Jewel's frightening power with reasonable ease. If he already had it in his disembodied hands, of course.

"Any questions?" There were none. "Let's get this show on the road then," the King of Amber decided.


	9. Making preparations

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

Again my apologies, PrincessEilonwy, but I meant what I said about my girlfriend...

Chapter 9

_Making preparations_

Nadine felt confused. After dropping Janus off at his tomb, she and Corwin had been driving for over an hour in a car that had suddenly been there, and Corwin had used the time to try to explain things. She understood what he said, that was not the point, but it just didn't make sense.

The fact that the landscape kept changing around them like a movie in fast-forward didn't help much either.

Corwin had told her about his family. It sounded like the vampiric clans to Nadine: all bickering and backstabbing between mighty beings with no sense of responsibility. He had also told Nadine about the trumps, which seemed to be some kind of mobile phones with an instant teleportation function. Lastly, he had told her about Shadow. She couldn't compare that with anything at all.

She did understood what she had to do, though: walk the Bleak Road and defeat Corwin's mad brother. At least the concept was simple enough.

Right now, they drove through a magnificent forest, full of mighty trees, flowering shrubs and brightly coloured birds. Nadine felt a strange kind of sadness creeping through her, seeing the abundant life. This was what the earth must have looked like before the arrival of humans. So peaceful, so unspoiled...

Suddenly, Corwin swerved to avoid three bloody corpses of what looked like himself on the road. They were hardly recognizable because of huge tooth marks and mangled limbs. Flies buzzed around them, and the sweet stench of dried blood made Nadine's stomach jolt.

"We're almost there," Corwin muttered.

"What were those?" Nadine asked.

"Me, myself and I," the prince of Amber stated. "Ah, I can see our little picknick site."

As Corwin parked the car on a grassy meadow, Nadine saw the Bleak Road: a gash of brown cutting through the forest like a scar, as if a dragon had blasted the woods with its fiery breath. Corpses lay everywhere, and a nervous group of soldiers was watching out for new attackers. The air was heavy with sweat and decay. A man clad in shining armour commanded them: probably Julian, judging from Corwin's description.

Next to him stood a smaller person, hardly more than a juvenile, sorrow in his eyes but bearing himself like a king. That must be Random. Somewhat further away, a flashy man, clad in red and orange like a living flame (Bleys?) deliberated with... Fiona.

The lady looked Nadine's way and greeted her with a casual smile, friendly yet haughty, like one would welcome the arrival of an exterminator to deal with a nest of mice under the kitchen floor.

Nadines cheeks flushed. Her first impulse was to rush at the woman and knock her to the ground, but she doubted she'd get the chance to do that. Her second impulse was to walk up to Fiona and tell her exactly what she thought of her, but Nadine knew that the lady would just keep smiling and cut her arguments into thinly sliced pieces.

Nadine decided it would be best to ignore her for the moment and walked straight up to Random. Corwin accompanied her: striding among these Machiavellian demigods, she found his presence quite comforting.

The King of Amber shook her hand firmly. Although Nadine avoided his gaze, not daring to look another member of the family directly in the eyes after what Fiona had done, his grip felt comfortable. Nadine sensed the warm blood flowing underneath the skin: strong and lively, more nourishing than any mortal's could ever be... For a fleeting moment, she had to resist the temptation to bite him in the wrist and taste the precious liquid. Then he spoke to her, and the temptation was gone.

"So, Nadine," King Random said, "welcome in our midst. I understand that you agreed to confront the traitor Brand and, with our help, eliminate him?"

Nadine nodded.

"Then I suggest that you prepare and leave soon," Random continued grimly. "The last wave of attackers left us quite vulnerable, and you want to be on your way before Brand can reassemble his forces."

"Tell me what to do, and I'll be gone." Nadine absent-mindedly drummed her fingers against the bark of a mighty oak. The whole enterprise felt like swimming in too cold water: better to jump in rightaway than to postpone the inevitable. Except that in this case, the water was filled with sharks.

"I will tell you." Nadine swirled around: Fiona had spoken. "It's very easy: first, you have to open up your mind to Bleys and me."

Nadine stared at the small woman, who spoke like she had never leeched Nadine's memory, then taken her for a grueling tour over the Pattern. "Bleys and I have to keep contact with you," Fiona explained, "so we can... do our part when you confront our beloved but insane brother." 

"How will that affect me?" Nadine inquired sharply.

"Why, it will dramatically increase your chances of survival!" the lady smiled. "Brand _is a mad, evil god, after all."_

It was logical. It was irrefutable. It was exactly what Nadine didn't want to hear.

"All right," she muttered, taking a deep breath for reassurance, even though her body no longer needed to. "Go ahead."

Fiona produced a card that she and Bleys concentrated on. Nadine caught a glimpse of the picture imprinted on it: it showed her, clad in a black-and-red dress, wearing a silver necklace. Despite her reservations, she had to admit that it was a good portrait.

Nadine felt the familiar sensation again, of an invisible presence knocking on the door of her mind. She yielded to it, and felt the warm and lively presence of Bleys, like a flame in the back of her mind. She also felt the cooler but stronger presence of Fiona there, coiled like a cobra. For the moment, they were resting quietly, but Nadine would keep a mental eye on them in case they tried to intrude on her thoughts or pull off a good cop/bad cop routine.

She was probably powerless to resist, but she wouldn't give up without a fight.

"Second," Fiona said, and Nadine wasn't certain whether she spoke or simply projected thoughts in her mind, "you have to concentrate on the trump of Gérard and make contact." She handed the vampire another card. Nadine looked at it and froze.

On it was a picture of the man she'd bitten, laughing and holding a wine goblet.

Nadine swallowed hard, trying to think what she could do. Her agitation, however, must have triggered the card: quickly, the image grew and expanded into a huge man in a grey-and-blue cloak. He held a heavy assault rifle in his right hand instead of a wine goblet. Also, his jovial laugh had gone when he noticed who had trumped him.

"You?!" he hissed, growing slightly red in the face.

"Gérard?" Nadine muttered. His fierce countenance shook as her hands holding the trump trembled. "I... I never meant to kill you, back then. I just needed some blood, and I chose you because you looked so strong, you wouldn't have felt it anyway." It seemed a lame excuse. "I am a vampire, but I would not have let you die. I never let people die. And if I had known what it would all lead to... I... I'm sorry, Gérard."

Gérard regarded her with a frown. His fury seemed to have dissapated, but he still was distinctly pink in the cheeks. "You, a simple Shadow dweller, assaulted, even harmed a Prince of Amber," he muttered, "and now you ask me to forgive you?"

"I do not ask you to forgive me," Nadine said. "That would be too much. I just want you to know I'm sorry."

For a few seconds, Gérard just stared at her. Then he grinned. "Well, now," he laughed, "who would have thought that my blood would bring forth the saviour of Amber! At least," he added, "if you can surprise my brother as well as myself." He reached through the trump and patted Nadine on the shoulder, who almost fell over from his pile driver-strength. "Good luck, lass, you'll need it!"

"Thank you," Nadine said, adjusting her blood flow to assist her strained muscles. Gérard stepped back. Through the frame of the trump, she saw him standing next to several cases of bullets. A tall, dour-faced man stood next to him: regarding the calm expression on his face, Nadine wasn't sure if he had even listened to their conversation. He carried a slender sniper rifle in his right hand. Nadine stared: his right arm seemed somehow... different from his left. Then, the tall man stared back at her.

Nadine quickly averted her gaze. It must have been Benedict. Was that the brother Corwin had spoken so fondly of? His cool, piercing eyes had scared the wits out of her. It almost felt like the night she had been drained of blood and glimpsed Death. The night she'd been made a vampire...

"Finished?" Fiona asked briskly. "Then you can start. Just keep Gérards trump pointed at the enemy. He and Benedict will take care of them. Any questions?"

"I believe we've been through that before," Nadine muttered.

"Indeed," Fiona said. "Off you go!"


	10. Walking the Bleak Road

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

As chapter 11 will be the grande finale, I will be posting it along with the epilogue, so as to avoid the 'mustard-after-dinner' effect (an old Dutch saying). However, I will try to minimize delays (The intention is there, at least ;-) ). Enjoy!

Chapter 10

_Walking the Bleak Road_

Nadine set foot upon the Bleak Road.

Hard earth and dry grass crunched under her sturdy black boots. It felt no different than any other patch of dirt. If the road hadn't had a black fringe of insect and bird corpses, Nadine would have felt the butt of a practical joke.

Among the veritable gods of Amber, of course, practical jokes could be as deadly as any ordinary assault.

Nadine walked along the road at a brisk pace, holding the trump of Gérard in front of her like a warrior's shield. She felt the gaze of the company she'd left behind pricking in her back: the weary and incredulous stares of the soldiers, the grim determination of the Amberites.

And the genuine worry of Corwin.

Nadine knew that if she failed, of all the Amberites only he would mourn her passing. The rest would simply be disappointed that they hadn't succeeded the easy way. She didn't care: she would without pause trade all their might and power for a merry evening drinking with Janus.

Of course it was silly for a vampire, Lady of the Undead, Spawn of the Night, to think things like that. But old habits died hard.

The road took a turn and Amberites and soldiers disappeared from view. Nadine now walked alone through gradually thinning woods: she had departed from a grove of oaks, but now she walked mostly among birches, their stunted forms swaying in a cold breeze. Birds chirped off the sides of the road as dusk turned slowly towards night. A crescent moon, dark orange in the fading light, rose and settled itself over the shadows of faraway mountain peaks.

Then, Nadine saw movement in front of her.

Something small scurried over the road and disappeared under the cover of some fallen leaves. Nadine blinked. It had looked just like a mouse wearing a black cloak. So there were things that could brave the unholy power of the road, apart from the fighting corpses. It felt a bit unsettling.

Now tiny red eyes regarded her from underneath the leaves. Nadine paused. There was certainly more than one pair.

"I have worked in a laboratory, you know," she said. "Dissected dozens of your tiny friends. Don't get any ideas."

Nadine didn't know if it helped. At least the mouse-thing didn't show itself again.

As Nadine advanced, the trees grew smaller and further apart until they disappeared altogether. She walked through a haggard landscape, rumbling with the promise of molten rock flowing ever-so-close underneath the surface. The road itself remained stable, however. Nadine didn't expect it to cave in. It was made to carry someone's army's on towards world domination, after all.

As she passed a tumble of blackened rocks, their surface twisted as in torment, she saw the oncoming horde.

Nadine froze on the spot. There must have been over a hundred creatures walking towards her, not half a mile away, all looking just like the people she had left in the forest. They were actually led by a grotesque Corwin, sword in hand, slobbering and cackling as he went.

The army also froze, surprised by this sudden turn of events.

Among the rumbling and groaning of the earth, Nadine heard a single word coming from the trump she carried: "Up."__

Nadine hesitated for a moment. Then she understood and raised the trump.

"Stop. Left."

Nadine moved the trump to the left.

"Hold."

Screeching a distorted battle cry, the horde attacked.

Nadine held her ground as the enemy stormed towards her, not daring to budge even an inch. Bloody beads of perspiration trickled over her brow. She hoped that Benedict knew what he was doing.

With an audible _foomp, something huge and white flew out of the trump. A searing hot gust of wind knocked Nadine backwards to the ground. Frantically, she tried to scramble up again. Then, she saw the slender missile speeding unerringly to its target, and she let herself fall._

A deafening crash and a flash of light made Nadine's eyes sparkle with silent explosions. Even the earth remained silent for three long seconds. Then, something landed in front of her with a wet thud. Nadine looked up ever so carefully.

It was a lump of molten metal that could very well have been a sword.

Of the army, nothing but a patch of scorched granite remained.

"Incredible," she muttered.

The trump was silent.

Nadine picked herself up and walked on. She passed the blackened ground quickly, not wanting to look at the gory traces of dead bodies too closely. She wondered if the missile had indeed destroyed all gathered foes, or if some had escaped to warn their master?

She would find out soon enough. It all depended on where the Bleak Road ended.

Nadine strode on for another half-hour through the pocked landscape. The rotten-egg smell of sulphur assaulted her nostrils, and she wondered if living beings could even breathe in the dense stench: the last beasts she'd seen had lived among the twisted birches a while back. Heavy clouds covered the sky and a foul mist hung over the land, making her eyes water: they must be looking quite bloody by now, she thought. Still, she didn't care about the prickling haze: her vampiric eyesight would put even an eagle to shame. And no matter what, she had business to take care of.

It was another hour before Nadine saw the castle.

She had just scaled the ridge of a huge crater and saw the road winding down towards a solitary magma pillar in the centre. It zigzagged up the column and ended, not _before _but _as _a mighty palace. Nadine stared at it; it seemed as if all the cathedrals and fortresses she had seen on boring holidays in France with her parents were all unconsciouly built after this design. It was the palace of all palaces.

Except that the right tower was for some reason one storey higher than the left.

Nadine hurried down the road, through a fine layer of grey-brown ash and pumice, that flew up in lazy clouds as she passed by.

As Nadine approached the palace, anxious shouts indicated that she had been spotted. Soon, a volley of arrows flew from fortified ramparts up the magma pillar. Nadine broke into a run, hoping she would reach the shelter of the stone walls before the projectiles could hit her.

As abruptly as the volley was launched, however, it was undone, as fast bullets from Gérards's trump picked the arrows off one by one.

Nadine took no time to be amazed: although her guardians on the other side of the trump kept her safer than a large wooden shield would have done, she still felt exposed hiding herself behind a magical piece of paper. Keeping a weary eye on the ramparts she ran on, hoping the defenders wouldn't have hot oil or Greek fire at the ready.

Luckily, the owner of the place had probably never expected a direct attack. And since an abandoned attempt to deep-fry doughnut balls on her first New Year's Eve away from her parents, Nadine knew that cauldrons of oil took an awfully long time to heat up...

As she reached the foot of the pillar where the Bleak Road turned into a Bleak Staircase leading upwards, Nadine stopped for a moment to compose herself. Being a vampire meant she didn't need to pant anymore, but running still put a strain to her body. Unlike mortals, she could mostly ignore it, yet she wanted to be nice to the body she would wear for all eternity.

Besides, she had to save her strength for the confrontation with what waited above.

As Nadine went off again and jogged up the staircase, a column of armed Amberite-corpses descended to meet her. The sight should have instilled fear, or at least waryness, but instead Nadine felt a strange sense of exhilaration. A hot glow suffused her limbs, and she felt she could handle them all easily She turned the trump around and looked at the surprised face of Gérard, rifle at the ready.

"Give me a sword!" she found herself shouting at him. "I want another chance!"

Gérard looked baffled. Then, he narrowed his eyes. "Stop it, Bleys," he grumbled. "You're risking our best opportunity to catch the traitor!"

_As well as risking the life of a young lady, a female voice said, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once. Bloody Fiona, always the pedant..._

Nadine felt the glow withdrawing from her limbs with reluctance, until it settled down in the back of her head again. Suddenly, she realized she had not been herself. Rather, she'd been possessed.

The flamboyant presence of Bleys to counter Fiona's coolness seemed much less reassuring now.

Nadine quickly turned her trump around so that Gérard and Benedict could face the oncoming horde.

The climb was surprisingly easy. Amberite bodies fell before her under the rain of bullets and tumbled to the rough rocks below. Seldom did they manage to approach closer than ten yards before being swept away or knocked off balance. One huge creature resembling the man called Gérard lunged at her: just as Nadine braced herself to face him, a well-muscled hand reached out of the trump, grabbed her attacker and pulled him in. Without a sound, the giant disappeared into the playing card.

Then, the bullets came again, making Nadine's ears buzz and drowning the staircase in blood so that the going became slippery.

Halfway up the last staircase, the wave of attackers dried up. As the last Bleys-clone fell screaming to its death, Nadine paused for a moment and wrung out her shirt. Dark droplets welled up and fell to the worn stone steps. By now, she must be covered in blood as if she'd cracked open a vampiric piñada. Like a cat, she licked her hands clean and found the taste not unagreeable: stale, but hearty, with a velvety aftertase. It was all utterly unreal: elating and horrifying at the same time...

Realizing that too much reflection would probably unleash a wrecking wave of emotions, Nadine quickly continued upwards.

The landing was empty. No one challenged her as she walked towards the castle and passed through the open gates, into the heart of the place that was the beginning of the Bleak Road. _Now that the shock troops were dead, it was all so easy..._

Suddenly, the presence of both Fiona and Bleys in her mind evaporated, leaving behind a distinct chill. At the same time, Gérards trump seemed to shrivel in on itself.

_Bleys? Nadine thought. And then, although she had never expected to actually wish for her presence: __Fiona?_

There was nothing. Every trace of them had gone.

Nadine turned Gérards card over and stared at it. On it was a friendly, well-painted and utterly unliving picture. Panicked, she concentrated on the portrait so hard it made her eyes water. She felt nothing at all.

"No need for that," a soothing but ghostly voice said down the hall. "Didn't you know I'd broken all contact with my family?"


	11. In the Mouth of Madness

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

To clear up some things for Myeerah (and other puzzled readers):

- Nowhere in the Books of Amber does Bleys actually possess people; your observation was correct. I based myself on _Amber: the Diceless Role-Playing Game, where individuals with a high 'psyche' (strong mind) may engage in Psychic Domination: taking over a victim's brain. As Bleys is one of the redheads, albeit 'inferior' to Fiona and Brand, I thought it would be an appropriate option for him. I imagined he must have felt a strong desire to finish the ascent of Kolvir he'd begun in _Nine Princes in Amber, _after all..._

- And the mouse-thing in the black cape was inspired mostly by Terry Pratchett's portrayal of the Death of Rats: imagine something like the picture on... 

...only with red eyes. I just thought they'd make a fine addition to a Bleak Road...

Chapter 11

_In the Mouth of Madness_

In front of Nadine, a red mist of roughly human shape floated over a throne made of magnificent polished wood. The mist pulsated softly, growing now denser, now thinner, as if by some silent heartbeat. It radiated malice.

Nadine trembled. Standing in the immense castle hall, cold and covered in sticky blood, she remembered the time when she was very young and, while playing on the market square of her home town, had fallen into a fountain. She had been cold, wet and crying then.

But at that time, there had been dozens of people to comfort her. Now, even the ephemeral contact she'd had with the Amberites had vanished.

"Look at me."

Again, the ghostly voice. Nadine glanced at the swirling red haze, but didn't dare to look closer. She still remembered Fiona's gaze boring into her brain...

_"Look at me!"_

Her head jerked up as if someone had grabbed her by the chin, and she stared into Brands intense, burning eyes; two glowing coals inside the red cloud. At that moment she realized that he was completely, irrevocably insane.

Then, he delved into her memories.

Again, Nadine felt the pain, the burning and the shame of her most private and insignificant thoughts being laid bare before this mad monster. Within seconds, he had absorbed all knowledge she'd gathered in over twenty years.

Somehow, on a detached level, she had expected this theft to be more horrible, more painful than when Fiona had ripped her memories. It wasn't.

_In the end, they're all the same, she thought bitterly as Brand released his hold on her and she slumped to the ground. Even as she closed her eyes and heard the madman chuckling over his new loot, she felt him staring at her: a wide and hungry gaze, as if he was some kind of shark. Nadine knew she had to do something, come up with a brilliant plan._

She didn't have the faintest idea.

As she slowly scrambled to her feet, however, something welled up in her mind that hadn't been there before. A carefully concealed memory, dislodged but unnoticed by Brand's destructive gaze.

_Nadine..._

Fiona! But the mental link was severed: Nadine only remembered her speaking.

_Nadine, if you hear this, know that not all is lost. Listen to me, and remember..._

"Thank you," Brand spoke ever so friendly, disrupting Nadine's train of thought. "Under other circumstances, I would tell you the truth and show you what you really have been – another pawn in our family game."

"Unfortunately," he continued, floating slowly towards the young vampire, "it would take time to make you see things as they are, instead of the lies imposed upon you by my jealous family. Time I lack at the moment. _Especially _since you are one of those rare, thick-skulled individuals that are prepared to die for what they believe is a good cause," he added, extending arms of swirling red mist and scratching under his non-existent chin.

_Remember, Nadine thought, searching for the lost memory, _remember what?!__

"So I am just going to kill you," Brand concluded. "You'll have the honour of being my first personal victim in my conquest of the multiverse."

Nadine racked her brain for the fugitive information, but her mind groaned and threatened to shut down under the stress. She needed to stall him...

"Conquering the multiverse?" Nadine said, trying to sound firm. "You and what army? The broken bodies that lie at the bottom of this mountain?"

Brand gave a small snort, maybe meant as a chuckle, as he advanced. Nadine backed slowly away, maintaing a façade of confidence. "Did you really think those troops were all I had?" he grinned. "Besides, I can always summon more from the Shadows with but a thought, so great is my control. My conquest will be a perfect one, just like the new multiverse will be perfect!"

_Perfect... So Brand was a perfectionist, probably an obsessive one. He had to be, Nadine thought, __to be able to harness those vast powers._

She would pinch him where it hurt.

"Perfect?" she asked incredulously. "Aw, c'mon! You've made a sloppy start to begin with!"

As Brand halted abruptly, Nadine knew she'd said the right thing.

"_Sloppy?!" _he hissed, eyes narrowing in annoyance. "What do you mean?!"

"Well," Nadine said. "Just take this palace. Haven't you noticed that the right tower is one storey higher than the left? Quite ugly, if you ask me."

"The form of my palace _doesn't matter!" Brand screamed in a voice that betrayed how much the detail mattered to him. "Once I have drawn my own Primal Pattern...!"_

"...You'll have a multiverse with one oversized dimension!" Nadine laughed, grasping frantically after the memory. There it was!

_She and Fiona were standing near the Bleak Road, somewhat away from the others. "I am going to hide these memories," Fiona said, so that my brother won't know that I gave you..."_

"Can you imagine!" she continued sneering, playing Brands manic anger up to the hilt. "Everything will be either too long, or age within seconds, or..."

_"...that I gave you..."_

"Silence!!!" the purplish-red haze screeched, sounding like a spoiled girl. "You will be silent!" A misty tentacle shot out, curled around a mighty stone pillar and yanked it loose. As the roof came crashing down, the pillar loomed over Nadine, toppled over... Nadine leapt away from the tumbling tons of stone, but as one large chunk broke loose, she tripped over a beam.

_"...that I gave you THIS." Nadine screamed as she felt the chunk of stone crash into her left foot. Sparks danced in front of her eyes, but they weren't sparks of pain... Yes, they were, but they changed into the glittering of a finely crafted red jewel, a jewel on a chain that Fiona put in the breast pocket of her coat._

_"It is the Jewel of Judgement, and it is the most destructive weapon in existence. If Bleys and I won't be able to stop our mad brother, you will – with this."_

There was more, but Nadines broken foot screamed for attention, and she had to let go of the memory to focus and direct blood to the wound, so that its regenerative powers could knit together the shattered bone and torn flesh. It had to be a rush job: although she healed many times faster than a mortal, as the dust settled she expected Brand to appear over the rubble of the pillar any moment. Patience, patience...

Finally, Nadine dared to crawl away, her foot halfway between itching and hurting. She hid behind a huge block of stone and felt in her breast pocket. With a gasp of awe, Nadine pulled out the Jewel of Judgement. Its heavy red gem blinked and pulsed – probably in unison with the red mist that Brand had become. More memories rushed in.

_"Only two things ever got out of the Abyss: the Unicorn and the Jewel of Judgement. The Unicorn was, due to its nature, out of the question, so Brand must have found a way to project himself into the Jewel. That way, he could travel back from the Abyss into our world._

_Of course, he couldn't stay in there, as the chances of detection were too great. So he fled. But he couldn't become a part of the Jewel without it also becoming a part of him; Brand will not be whole again until he has reclaimed his prize._

Nadines dead heart stirred uneasily in her chest. She had just gained a lot of responsibility: if she lost, not only would her life be forfeit, but her enemy would also have his former powers handed over to him on a silver platter.

So how did the damn thing work?!

"Fa, fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a vampire!"

Nadine looked up. Brand was floating over the ruined remains of the pillar, studying the patch of blood that lay on the ground where her foot had been broken. He hadn't seen her yet, but it wouldn't take long. She began to inch away towards another pillar.

"Be she dead or be she dead, I'll grind her bones to get my..." Brand frowned, as if in concentration. Then his head snapped up, as that of a wolf that smelled blood: "..._Jewel!!!"_

Nadine broke into a run.

All around her, pillars toppled and fell, rumbling and cracking as they crashed into each other. Great dust clouds obscured her view and penetrated her ears, her mouth, her nose. She just hoped she was still running towards the exit.

A solid shape loomed ahead and Nadine ducked away just as a massive statue of Brand fell over and crunched the floor. Stone chips bruised her face and arms. Quickly, she crawled under a piece of collapsed roof, where she lay coughing, sneezing the dust from her dead yet sensitive lungs. The madman would clearly stop at nothing to gain his precious stone. Nadine blinked the blood from her eyes and stared at it again. The Jewel seemed to pulse faster now, as if agitated. To be reunited with its former owner, perhaps?

"Don't be too sure about that," Nadine murmured. Then, louder, she spoke: "Brand! Stop this, if you don't want to damage the Jewel!"

Abruptly, the ear-splitting racket ceased. A last wall fell over rumbling, then everything was silent. As the dust settled, the red haze that was Brand glided down the ruined hallway like an Angel of Vengeance come to collect its quarry. Nadine stared at him wearily. She yearned for it to be over, but clenched her hands about the Jewel. She wouldn't give in. Never.

"You have felt my power," Brand spoke, barely able to contain himself in the presence of the Jewel. "You cannot escape me. Hand it over!"

"Come and get it," Nadine spat. "Or are you... Afraid of what I might do with it?" She dangled the Jewel on its chain in front of her face. As she looked through it at Brand, she suddenly saw him as he must have looked in life: a handsome, brooding man, clad in a fine green suit – with eyes just as crazed and hungry as they were now. Eyes that were yet also afraid: he didn't know what she could do with the Jewel.

_That makes two of us, she thought, desperately fishing for the memory._

_...Brand will not be whole again until he has reclaimed his prize..._

_Yes, Nadine thought angrily, __I already know that!_

_...Brand will not be whole again until he has reclaimed his prize..._

_...So you must..._

_...You must..._

Then, the Brand-ghost waved his hand, and the collapsed roof crashed down on Nadine. And she realized what had to be done as she fell under the weight of stone and wooden beams.

Slowly, Brand approached the prone figure, crushed and broken under part of his palace's roof. The vampire lay still in defeat, one hand clutched around the chain of the Jewel. Brand smiled as he pried it loose. She had been a surprisingly worthy adversary. Then, he hung the Jewel around his ghostly neck.

Immediately he felt energy coursing through him, filling him and strengthening his from. He laughed aloud as his old powers seeped back in his body. It felt as if his heart was returned to his chest after a long absence. "I am whole!" he screamed as his shadowy form solidified. "I am whole again! Finally! I am..."

The vampire lifted her head and stared at him through glassy eyes.

"You are alive," she croaked.

"Yes!" Brand laughed, staring at his hands and arms, now solid and fleshy, his form that of an Amberite once again, "I am..."

Then the realization hit him.

"Alive...?"

Brand, mad prince of Amber and would-be destructor of the multiverse, clutched at his chest. Then he fell over, his face frozen in a last scream.

"Forgot all about the life-stealing properties of the Bleak Road, did you?" Nadine coughed. "Well, couldn't get whole again without getting truly alive again, I guess."

Slowly, she dragged her limp body from under the rubble. "Could probably have thought of that yourself," she continued, "if you hadn't been so obsessed with that taunting vampire and regaining your precious Jewel."

Nadine paused for a moment. It felt as if all the bones in her body were broken, and a black void lurked at the edge of her consciousness, ready to take over.

Fortunately, just in front of her, lay a body full of life-giving, nourishing, potent blood. The pain wouldn't last long.

Birds chirped in the lush green forest of Arden, breaking the otherwise deadly silence. One of them, a hawk, dove down from circling high above the treetops and landed on the outstretched arm of a man clad in gleaming white armour.

Julian bent his head, as if listening to the hawk. Then, he looked up.

"She's coming," he said. "And she carries our brother with her. He's dead."

Of the assembled Amber family, only Fiona reacted, with something halfway between a sob and a chuckle. The others, while undoubtedly feeling a rush of emotions, remained impassive: Benedict and Gérard, returned from their posts after their contact with Nadine had been cut off. Bleys, who had together with Fiona tried to trump the vampire again, but without success. Corwin and Random, who had simply waited, trusting Nadine to do her job.

Now, the young vampire appeared over a hill on the Bleak Road. She looked remarkably well for someone who had confronted a mad god; she even wore a tired but thin smile. And in her arms she carried Brand, careful, as if he were a toddler. He looked very small and fragile.

"Has she killed him?" Gérard asked.

"No," Benedict replied. "Heart attack."

"I don't think so," Gérard said triumphantly. "Haven't you noticed the bite marks in his neck?"

"She bit him after he died," Benedict corrected him. "You might want to look more carefully." Gérard grumbled, but didn't reply.

"Here is your brother," Nadine said, laying Brand out in the soft grass at the feet of Random. "I am sorry for his... pale appearance." She stepped back onto the Road. "I also brought back some trinket I thought you'd like to have." She took the Jewel of Judgement from her breast pocket and showed it to the assembled Amberites. This time, everyone but Fiona reacted with a gasp of surprise.

"Nadine, you have our deepest thanks," King Random said and held out his hand.

Nadine didn't move. "However," she said, "for what I've gone through, I would like to ask a little favor in return. Would you grant me that?"

"That depends," Random said, showing a hint of uneasiness. "State your request."

Nadine stated her request.

Both Random and Corwin laughed. "That would be a small price to pay for so great a deed!" Random said. "Fair, 'tis granted. Benedict, I trust you will take care of the matter?"

Benedict didn't nod. But he didn't say 'no' either, and Nadine had learned to understand that that meant 'yes.'


	12. Epilogue

**Of the Blood**

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

For a background note: in White Wolf's _Vampire: the Masquerade, the First Vampire is actually Caine who killed his brother Abel, and for that got cursed by God (with sunlight allergy and a whole lot of superpowers, obviously)._

In this chapter, I have left out that detail, as it would cause severe problems for whoever intended to kill him (Genesis 4:15, if you really want to know).

Chapter 12

_Epilogue_

Many, many years later...

...It came to pass that snows blanketed the lands with a silent shroud. The moon rose red in the sky like a bloody eye. Blackness consumed the stars, and animals sniffed the air and howled for mercy.

It was the night of Gehenna. The Final Night, when, according to age-old prophecies, the mighty vampires from yore would rise and feast upon their progeny – and the hapless masses of humanity. Stormclouds boiled over the earth, and it was as if time itself was already drawing the curtains of the theatre of Earth, for surely the end had come.

It was on the banks of the Euphrates, near the First City of Ur, that they rose. Ancient vampires, creatures that had witnessed the dawn of civilisation and lived like gods among the terrified humans. Their long slumber had finally come to an end, and hungrily they rose, crawled up from the earth, shook the dust from their pale hides, bathed their wrinkly skin in the reddish moonlight and bit their lips in ravenous anticipation. But first, they gathered in the marketplace of that ruined city around the solitary creature that would lead them to their rightful place as rulers over earth and sky:

The first vampire.

"Children and grandchildren," the vampire spoke, and though he didn't raise his voice, he could be heard many miles away, "the time has come. The circle has drawn to a close. Tonight, we will swarm out and retake the earth! Tonight is the night that both man and beast will tremble before us! Tonight the old world will die!"

"No it won't," a clear woman's voice cut him off.

A deady silence settled over the assembled vampires. Slowly, their Father turned his head towards the girl-vampire, clad all in black, that regarded him with a friendly smile. "Who dares to interrupt me?" he demanded in a low growl. Several creatures of the night inched backwards, expanding the circle around Father and girl.

"I am Nadine," she said. "And I carry your doom." The girl held up a playing card. From the card stepped a tall, dour, thin man, who regarded the first vampire with something like professional interest. A long sword hung in its scabbard at his belt.

"You look just like one of my brothers," he said.

The first vampire sneered at Nadine. "The time that I feared living warriors is long since past," he spoke in a dark voice. "After I have slain your protector, I will drink your heart's blood. You will be the first to fall before my..."

"Yes, yes, I've heard _that before," Nadine said. "Cut the crap, will you?" The assembled horde cringed before her blasphemy. Rage blossomed in the eyes of their Father, and he seemed to grow as he advanced, baring feral claws, fangs protruding, exuding the aura of a vengeful god. Even Nadine winced as her mighty ancestor leapt forward and slashed, lightning-quick, a blow that would have felled a boar at the thin human._

There was the tiniest _chink! of metal against metal. In an instant, Benedict seemed to have shifted his pose: he now had one hand on the hilt of his sword, that stuck just a little out of its scabbard. The first vampire had frozen in mid-leap._

Then, with a delay that was almost dramatically appropriate, the vampire's head toppled from his shoulders. Only now did Nadine notice the tiny droplets of blood on Benedicts leather jerkin.

"Perfect," she said.

"No," Benedict replied. "I took a slice off the fourth vertebra, while I should just have severed the nerves between the third and the fourth." Nadine realized that the man was actually annoyed: the detail would probably nag at him for years to come.

"Never mind. Anyone else want some?" she called out to the assembled undead.

The mighty vampires, who had in their time ruled as lords unopposed, now hesitated, torn between fear and the lust for blood and vengeance.

At that moment, the cavalry charged from behind the ruins.

Mighty warhorses galloped in, their riders clad in strong yet supple plate mail, brandishing swords and torches as they thundered closer. Leading them, grinning fiercely, was a knight clad all in black and silver, spurring his horse on with scaled silver gloves. Although he wore a black helmet, Nadine recognized Corwin immediately. Even though she had never seen him fight, his carefully measured recklessness, dirty tricks and backstabs seemed somehow familiar. The vampires hardly had time to turn around or bare their fangs as he cut into them, driving them before him with a large torch, then skewering them one-handed with a sword that was almost as long as Nadine. Smoke and the spicy smell of burnt flesh filled the air as several vampires ignited and rolled screaming over the ground, setting fire to their bone-dry comrades.

"Too low," Benedict muttered, apparently oblivious to the battle that raged all around him. Nadine felt the urge to pat his shoulder. He must _really _be annoyed.

The ancient vampires put up quite a fight, but they never recovered from their initial surprise, and were relentlessly cut down by some of the finest horseman Shadow had to offer. In the end, the last monsters, seeing that they were surrounded, dove into their old hiding places in the ground, frightened of the new world's legions and anxious to return to their slumber and dreams of times long gone. Within half an hour, Nadine was the only vampire left standing on the ruined market square of Ur.

Corwin rode up to her through the mass of blackened bodies, most of which had already turned into ash, and saluted her. While his gloves and black riding boots bore numerous rips and scratches, none of the vampires had managed to cling on long enough to drink his blood – the only possibility Nadine had actually feared.

"So, my lady Nadine," Corwin said, "your little favour has been repaid. Is everything according to your wishes now?"

"Quite," Nadine smiled. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," Corwin said. "Well," he mused as he dismounted, "of course it was a tough fight, testing both my skill and courage, but it was not _really _dangerous."

"Of course," Nadine said, and kissed him on the cheek. "What will you do now? Return to Amber?"

"Probably," Corwin said. "There's always a lot to do in Amber." He hesitated. "Say, you could join us if you like," he added. "Visit the castle, stay with us for a while..."

"Sticking my nose into _that hornet's nest again?" Nadine laughed. "No, thank you: I've walked one pattern too many already!"_

Corwin shrugged. "Whatever. But if you ever change your mind... What will you do now?"

"I will go home, to Utrecht," Nadine said. "Seek out my friends in their hiding places and tell them it's safe to come out. The other vampires will probably remain hidden for quite some time. Which means the world will be a good place to live in for the coming years. But first..."

"First?"

"First I'm going to pick up my friend Janus and some bottles of booze, and we'll celebrate and drink ourselves into a merry stupor."

"You're a vampire with the potent blood of Amber in your veins," Corwin said incredulously. "Do you know what amount of alcohol we have to drink to get tipsy, let alone drunk?"

"No problem," Nadine grinned as she turned to walk away through Shadow. "I've spoken to Gérard after I'd returned with Brands body, and he told me exactly where to find the best pan-galactic gargle blasters the multiverse has to offer!"

---

Well, that's it: the end of a story that started nearly half a year ago, and has become one of the longest short stories I've ever written. I hope you've enjoyed it: thank you for reading, and also my thanks to everyone who has bothered to review 'Of the Blood:' I remain a sucker for reviews, after all. Special thanks go to my girlfriend Marijke for proofreading everything (and also for being cute), my friend Marieke for borrowing me everything she had from _Amber, _my friend Donijs for borrowing me everything he had from _Vampire, and PrincessEilonwy, faithful commentator who has never been long in reviewing each chapter as it appeared on FanFiction, even though the story didn't turn into a Nadine/Corwin romance..._

Next, I will probably start on some Dutch writing projects that have been gathering dust for some time (including my master's thesis, *ahem*). I already have a plan for returning to FanFiction some day, however, be it not in the Amber section, but, being such a sucker for reviews, in the fast-paced and high-paying world of Harry Potter. Here, I planned to test my writing skills on a 'romance' story involving Snape and Hermione. Of course, there are dozens of those stories already, but I will do my best to make mine stand out, using such plot elements as a huge bowl of chocolate pudding and an interesting new mythical creature called a succubog, that possesses rather disturbing properties...


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